Dan's fancy woman

My oldest son mentioned something in passing the other day which made my heart literally stop beating.
On the way home from school, my form is to cross-question him about his day in quick fire mode. I like to know what he’s been up to, what work he’s done, what he ate for lunch, what homework he has, how many windows he broke and how many times he was threatened with expulsion on that particular day.
It was while he was explaining the delights of his school dinners that he happened to mentioned that he shared his shortcake biscuit and custard with his girlfriend.
HIS GIRLFRIEND.
Well, when I managed to restart my heart I almost lost control of the car.
“Who is this woman?” I demanded to know.
And so the subject of the quick fire questions changed slightly.
Me: “Is this woman of sane mind?”
Him: “What?”
Me: “Has she ever been in prison?”
Him: “I don’t think so, she’s only six. She was in Disneyland once though.”
Me: “Well, does she have a criminal record?”
Him: “She likes High School Musical”
Me: “Has she a good job?”
Him: “She’s really, really good at reading.”
Me: “Has she all her own teeth?”
Him: “Her two front teeth are missing, does that make a difference?”
Me: “Has she plenty of money?”
Him: “She had 50p the other day, she said she’d half if with me.”
Me: “Listen to me, my precious firstborn son. You go in tomorrow and tell her your mother is a crazy woman. C.R.A.Z.Y. You tell her that if she breaks your heart your crazy mother will bring her down. D.O.W.N. No questions asked.”
Him: “OK, I’ll tell her.”
This startling news shocked me to the core. My boy is only six years old for heaven’s sake. I wasn’t expecting to have to fight the ladies off at this tender age. I would have much preferred that his heart belonged to me, and only me, until he was, say 40 at least.
The boy informed me that it was perfectly normal for boys in primary three to have a girlfriend. While I sat, open-mouthed and wide-eyed, he told me that his best friend was going out with a girl but they ‘broke up’ last week due to an altercation over the superbness, or lack therefore of, of a Hello Kitty handbag.
I’m sure my Dan’s girlfriend is a cutie, I’m sure we’ll love her like he does (until they break up over his SpongeBob Squarepants obsession).
In the meantime I’m off to buy myself a shotgun and a pair of stone-wash denim dungarees. If this girl calls at the house to visit my boy I want to answer the door in fully Hillbilly getup – hair a mess, lumberjack shirt, dungarees, chewing tobacco and straw, cocking a shotgun – just to give her a feel for what the O’Neills are really about.